Friday, March 22, 2013

Hometown Nostalgia

My hometown is a thing of beauty...
It has been over 4 years since I last went and I miss it all the time. I miss the decadently delicious food that can truly only be prepared there. There is something almost magical about how heavenly the food is even when some of the dishes can be prepared on this side of the border. Then, there is the food I can only eat there because it is not sold on this side of the border. My mouth waters just at the thought of it.
I miss how the morning sun slowly creeps over the mountains to warm up the town. I miss how the sunsets are slowly painted in the sky and seem to melt behind the mountains. The smell of the ground during rainy days. Oh, the rain itself that seems as if sky is falling over us and yet the sun shines bright. The thunderstorms, both how scary they were and how thoroughly amazing the release of power they had was. Ironically, I miss walking through muddy streets even though I hated it at the time and it had stopped happening years before I left. I miss going into the barranca a few weeks after raining season had started and the water was clean.
I miss the blazing heat that never ends and makes for the perfect bonfire nights. I miss hating that heat that made me want to stay still and bath myself in icy water and survive on only homemade bolis.
I miss the fresh air and how I can almost feel it travel through my body. I miss the starry nights and the moon that shines so bright that renders the need for lights outside obsolete.
I miss the roosters singing to wake me up even though I thought they were annoying when I was there. I miss so many things that I took for granted. I miss walking with my grandpa through the hills to take the cows for water and to get chicuipos. I miss sitting in the patio eating pitayas with both hands as my grandpa would peel them so I wouldn't hurt myself with the thorns. I don't even like milk, but I even miss the fact that I could walk outside in the mornings and get a freshly milked glass.
I miss riding my bike around town with my grandpa's permission. I also miss riding the bike in circles in the patio after my grandpa got rid of the stair like step for that purpose.
I miss the picnics because they weren't at some random park, but truly hidden in the wilderness and the food was cooked on an open fire.I miss being able to walk everywhere and playing sports in the streets because that was the kind of freedom that is afforded in a small town. I miss having it all and not knowing it.
I miss the holidays there, but that is the oldest news reported in this network.
I could go on, but this post would never end. I just miss the good times.

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